


The Royal Bedfellow

by AtemporalVibe



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comedy, Friendly Hate Sex, Gay Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Oh also, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, and needed to get them out somehow, except they don't really hate each other that much?, i have Regrets about posting this but here we go anyways, in every sense of those words, so it's more like, they're really just friends fucking with each other, yeah i really just had a ton of sex jokes planned for grimm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtemporalVibe/pseuds/AtemporalVibe
Summary: Few would have suspected for Grimm, of all people, to be the Pale King's "man on the side," so to speak, but he is the man best suited for the job when the queen should be away or the king should like to try some... alternative dynamics.Tonight is just another night of such an arrangement.
Relationships: Grimm/The Pale King (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	The Royal Bedfellow

**Author's Note:**

> reality is deceiving me and i am Tired so have some smut kthanksbye

“You’re late,” the Pale King announced, turning around as Grimm teleported into the bedroom.

“You sent that message _fifteen minutes ago_ ,” the Troupe Master replied, rolling his eyes, “and I was bathing. Don’t even try to talk.”

“We both know why you’re here; let’s just begin,” the wyrm huffed.

“Did you get your lady’s approval?”

“Do you think me daft? Of course I did. She’s known about this arrangement since before it began.”

“Well, first, it’s hardly an ‘arrangement,’ and second, did you ask her about this time _specifically?_ ”

“Yes, I did, _as always._ ”

“I’d just prefer if my head stayed on my shoulders, is all,” Grimm replied, unclasping his cloak and twirling it off.

The Pale King merely rolled his upper shoulders back, letting his robes fall to the floor, and walked to the bed, lying down on his back. Grimm opened his mouth to speak before the Pale King interrupted him.

“Well?” He asked, folding his lower hands across the King’s Brand and his upper ones behind his head. Both his dicks were already halfway to hard. “What are you waiting for?”

“I was going to ask if you had any preferences this time.”

“Just pleasure me, Grimm.”

A grin slid across his face. “Oh? So does that mean I—”

“No, it was _not_ an invitation for you to top, and there never _will be_ one,” the wyrm replied, scowling softly at him. “ _Gods,_ you are unbearable sometimes.”

“If you’re so dissatisfied with my services, you could always go try Lurien or someone. I’m sure he’d be absolutely _delighted_ to have a chance to sleep with you.” He made his way towards the bed, movements fluid and controlled, and planted his hands at the foot of it, leaning forward until his face was a few inches away from the wyrm’s dicks.

“And besides, I think we both know I give better head,” he continued.

“I don’t pay you for sexual commentary about my advisors, Grimm,” the Pale King replied, scooching back so he could lean against the headrest and get a better look at Grimm. Unfolding his lower hands, he took hold of Grimm’s horns and pulled him along with him as he moved back, finally forcing the Troupe Master to actually get his hips onto the bed instead of just leaning over the edge of it. “You and your damn height,” the wyrm mumbled to himself.

“You don’t _pay me_ at all,” Grimm replied.

“I pay you with the privilege of using my precious time.”

Grimm broke into a cackle interrupted by snorts every so often.

“Just get to work,” the wyrm tugged Grimm’s head closer before letting it go.

“Gods, hold on for just a moment,” he replied, shifting around on the bed for a moment so that his hardening member was pinned straight between his body and the bed rather than some awkward side angle. “So impatient…”

He leaned forward, finally, and placed a kiss at the base of the lower member, taking the upper in his hand, stroking it slowly. He licked the lower, base to tip, both of the cocks twitching as they hardened to their full length. With a wink and a smile to the Pale King, he squeezed the upper and wrapped his mouth around the lower, going down and back up a few times as the wyrm merely stared at him, expression nothing short of completely neutral.

“You seem rather a touch unamused,” Grimm commented, using his other hand to stroke the lower dick. The Pale King smirked. 

“Oh do I now? Perhaps you need to try a bit harder.”

Grimm squinted in response before taking the wyrm’s dick into his mouth again, going all the way down and holding it for a few moments before stroking back up, getting a slight twitch in response. He ran his hand over the upper one at a slow, asynchronous, pace as he continued to suck the king’s lower dick.

The Pale King blinked at him, his hips lifting up almost imperceptibly in time with Grimm’s motions, getting him just that little bit deeper every single time. Grimm, in response, made ever so subtle adjustments with his tongue to give just that little bit extra to each stroke.

After what felt like an eternity to Grimm and no time at all to the Pale King, the wyrm let out a slight huff, setting a hand between the Troupe Master’s horns and holding his head down for a few moments longer before pushing it off altogether.

“Ride me,” he commanded, his voice cold and monotone.

“Aw,” Grimm replied, “is the little wyrm not having fun?”

“That would be a fault on your part, not mine,” the Pale King scowled.

“No, I think you’re just moody today,” Grimm’s eyes narrowed.

“Or perhaps I am tired of getting the exact same blowjob for the fifteenth time, harlot.”

“Oh, are we breaking out those words already? It usually takes you at least 30 minutes; this must be a record.”

“Just shut up and ride,” the Pale King responded, using one of his lower hands to stroke himself.

“If you insist, little wyrm,” Grimm said, climbing forward onto the bed and raising himself up above the Pale King’s hips. “Hm.”

“What?” The Pale King asked, eyes narrowing.

“I sometimes forget exactly how tiny you are—”

“Oh gods, this again?”

“I mean, really, it’s honestly rather adorable—”

“Grimm, I swear to every god…”

The Troupe Master chuckled. “I mean, when people in court bow, do they even go below your shoulders?”

“Do I need to get the gag?”

“I honestly wish you would,” Grimm responded, squinting at him with a smile.

“It is almost _impressive,_ sometimes, exactly how much you fail at being humorous for someone who runs a circus.”

“Little wyrm doesn’t like people making jokes at his expense? How adorable,” Grimm said. A beat passed in silence before he broke into a snicker, then a full-blown laugh. “Oh my gods…” he said between gasps for air.

The Pale King let out a sigh. “What is it _now,_ wench?”

“Oh my,” Grimm replied, “does the mighty Pale King’s short stature bother him? Are you bothered by being such a little _wyrmlet,_ hm?” A grin split clean across his face.

All four of the Pale King’s hands balled into tight fists. “I am going to _strangle_ you!” He shouted.

“Oh, _please_ do,” Grimm replied, continuing to laugh until the wyrm grabbed his hips and yanked him down, coming to a stop as his ass touched the King’s dicks.

“I do not have all night, Grimm,” he said.

“That’s a blatant lie,” the Troupe Master said. “You wouldn’t have this entire wing of the palace cleared if you were just here for a quick fuck before your next meeting.”

“How did you know I had this wing cleared out?”

“Because you always do,” Grimm smirked. “Although, speaking of wings, might I ask where yours have gone?”

“Get to riding me and then _maybe_ I shall grant you the _privilege_ of laying eyes upon them.”

“Such a tease,” Grimm said, taking hold of the lower dick and lining it up with himself before riding down slowly.

Both of them squeezed their eyes shut, Grimm letting out a soft huff as he made it to about halfway down with the king’s hands clamped around his legs. The wyrm applied an ever so slight pressure down—strong enough to be present, forceful enough to be irresistible, but not so harsh as to cause any significant harm. He opened his eyes, smiling at Grimm’s thin, elegant red figure, face tilted towards the ceiling.

“You know…” Grimm said with a single pant, “I’d almost forgotten what you feel like.”

“Oh, have I proven too much for the fabled harlot Grimm?” The Pale King asked, eyes narrowing.

“Hardly,” Grimm scoffed. “I could take much more.”

“Then how about you take both.”

“...Shut up.”

“Never.”

“Look, I’m riding you,” Grimm said, gesturing down at himself, “now let me see those wings.”

“I said that I _might_ show you; I never promised that I _would._ ”

“And I can always just get up,” Grimm replied, rolling his eyes.

“I’d like to see you try,” the Pale King said, his claws digging into Grimm’s thighs.

“I can teleport.”

“You’d take me with you.”

“To the middle of my troupe.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Grimm’s eyes narrowed, their glow flaring.

“...”

The Pale King’s wings flared out below him; Grimm smiled.

“Absolutely _beautiful,_ ” he said.

“Now _ride;_ you’ve been stalling for ages.”

“Oh calm down,” Grimm replied, sinking deeper onto the king’s lower dick while he used one of his hands to stroke himself.

The wyrm’s grip loosened somewhat, his push falling away as he watched Grimm begin to ride his dick up and down. One of his hands slipped off of the Nightmare King’s thighs to stroke his upper cock, and the other lower began to trail its way up Grimm’s side (or as far as it could go, at least). His hips pulsed upwards slightly harder than before as his counterpart came down, pushing him deeper each time— _gods,_ he was good—and he began to take deeper breaths.

“Am I to your liking yet, ‘your majesty’?” Grimm mocked, planting a hand on the wyrm’s abdomen as he ground himself out at the base of his dick.

The wyrm grunted softly. “Must you always be so talkative during sex?” He grumbled as Grimm began to go back up.

“Well, I can hardly be blamed if you’re not big enough to make me shut—” Grimm cut himself off with a gasp as the Pale King grabbed his hips once again and slammed up into him, leaving him dazed for a moment.

“You were saying?” He asked, voice cool and level.

“P-point taken,” Grimm said, panting.

“I’d hope so.”

The Troupe Master let out a shuddering breath as he went back up before coming down again, settling into a rhythm neither fast nor slow, neither harsh nor soft—a rather perfectly smooth rhythm aided by the use of his arm against the Pale King’s chest. He stared down at him, eyes captivated by every slight twitch of the wings or change in the way they caught the light both from the king’s own body and the surrounding light of the room. The majestic chromatic patterns of dispersed light danced across their surface, highlighted especially in the faint, swirling patterns covering the translucent surface. Grimm let out a soft breath, entranced by the shifting form brought on by the ever so subtle changes in the concentration of the wyrm’s light. What a beautiful figure it made for.

“What are you staring at?” The Pale King asked.

Grimm shook his head. “Hm? Just the wings,” he responded.

“Why are you so insistent upon seeing them?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it now illegal to find attractive things about the person you’re fucking?”

“I was just curious, Grimm.”

“Mhm,” Grimm replied, narrowing his eyes and smirking.

“Oh gods, what are you planning _now,_ wench?” The Pale King asked, scowling back.

Grimm’s eyes flared again, and he slammed down onto the wyrm’s cock, grinding into his hips once he hit the bottom. The Pale King let out a sharp groan, his upper hands finally coming away from the back of his head to hold Grimm’s hips and grind up into him while his lower set stroked both of their cocks independently. A growl tore itself from his throat as Grimm went to pull back up.

“Don’t,” he said flatly.

“Aww, little wyrmlet doesn’t want me to stop taking his entire length?”

“Grimm…” He muttered, scowling as the Troupe Master pulled himself up farther.

“What? Not used to it?” He asked with a smile. “Does your lady root always let you cum as soon as you’re able?”

“That is _it!_ ” The Pale King shouted, grabbing Grimm’s thighs from the underside. He tore him up off of his dick, rolling the Troupe Master onto his side in the process, and grabbed one of his legs, slinging it over his shoulder as his wings fluttered behind him, spread to their fullest beauty. Grimm stared at them as the wyrm drew himself up onto his knees, aligning his lower dick with his entrance. “I am going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk for _days._ ”

“I _wish_ you wou—” Grimm was cut off by a gasp again as the Pale King thrust all the way into him without hesitation.

“ _No_ discipline…” the wyrm said, pulling back and thrusting into Grimm full-force once again.

Grimm let out a shuddering breath. “Gods, how much muscle can fit into that body?” He asked, eyes flaring in time with each thrust.

“I may not be as large as I once once was, Troupe Master,” the Pale King said, eyes narrowing, “but I am still a wyrm.”

“I can—” Grimm gasped as the wyrm hilted himself again— “I can _tell._ ”

The Pale King clamped his hands down harder on Grimm’s thigh, his lower set of arms wrapping under Grimm’s hips to help pull him up into each thrust. The Troupe Master angled his head back to look at the Pale King, finding him scowling, his light almost blinding. His wings fluttered behind him with each thrust, pushing him harder. They shined in his light, the cascade of color printing itself on the wall behind him as he devoted his entire focus Grimm.

The Troupe Master, meanwhile, had devolved into nothing short of a mess, his midsection twisted to allow him a view of the Pale King—though the former seemed to be staring right through the latter. Every thrust procured either a moan or a gasp or some other sound as the wyrm continued on, rubbing his hands up Grimm’s thigh and along the side of his shell.

“I’m close,” the king growled.

“A-and?” Grimm replied, lifting his leg as the Pale King scooched in closer.

“Fine then,” came the reply, accompanied by a grunt as the Pale King thrust back into Grimm.

The two continued at the same pace, Grimm growing hotter and hotter as the Pale King brightened, both getting closer to relief. Grimm pulled in a sharp gasp when the king grabbed his dick with one of his lower hands, only to let the breath out as a moan when the wyrm thrust into him again. The king’s other hand went to his upper dick, stroking it approximately in pace with his thrusts. The wyrm found himself swiftly reminded of why he cleared this whole wing of the palace as Grimm’s moans and gasps grew to the volume of a shout.

Finally, though, Grimm came, spilling out onto the bed and panting as he lingered in the high of it all. The heat of his body faded away, leveling back down to normal, and he let out a sigh, his eyes closing softly.

The Pale King shivered at the temperature change but continued on, unrelenting in his pace as he neared completion himself. The wall behind him was a verifiable mosaic of light, painted through the filter of his wings, and they beat more aggressively than ever before going stiff as he hilted himself with one final thrust, releasing both into Grimm from his lower dick and onto the bed from his upper. His glow faded back down, wings falling to rest behind him, and the two of them laid there for a moment, both panting, before the Pale King pulled out.

Grimm let out a long sigh as he rolled over. “Damn…” he whispered.

“You’re free to stay the night, if you’d like, and the bathroom is just over there when you want it. Water should be warm,” the Pale King said between breaths, waving towards a door on the other side of the room.

“You went… really hard today,” Grimm replied.

“Yes…” the wyrm replied. “Do you think you’ll want some… assistance in getting there?”

“No, no, I’m fine, just… wow.”

“Agreed,” the Pale King said, leaning up. “I’m… going to go bathe. And get some water. Would you like any?”

“Could you?” Grimm asked, still staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” the king replied, hoisting himself out of the bed and glancing back at Grimm. “Are you certain you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Grimm blinked, “it was just intense. Incredible, but intense.”

“Mhm,” the king was at the door. “I’ll be back soon. Do what you will, in the meantime.”

“Yep,” Grimm replied, giving him a thumbs up until he heard the door close. He laid in bed for a while longer, far beyond the point of what one might refer to as ‘sore’ as he gazed at nothing in particular. Quite a lot of him was still left in a post-sex haze, blinking softly with a neutral expression, though a gentle warmth was still present at his core. Maybe it was the Nightmare Heart. Or maybe the wyrm was just that good of a fuck.

Either way, he pulled in a breath as he sat up, supporting himself with his hands. A moment passed with gentle breathing before he slid his legs off the bed, rising to his feet with only a minor stagger, due in part to the fact that he hadn’t stood up in… well, however long it’d been. He rubbed one of his eyes, making his way over to the door.

The bathroom, familiar though it was, was still a stark departure from most of the palace. For one, it had an actual _color_ to it—gold, to be precise, mostly around the edges of the bathtub—and two, it wasn’t all stone and metal. The cabinet just next to the mirror was actually wooden, and the floors were covered by a few small mats (though even they were still about as pale as the king).

True to the king’s word, the bathtub was already filled with water—hot spring water, specifically, by the looks of it—and Grimm found himself slipping into it before he could stop to think. He relaxed down into it with a sigh, his shoulders sliding down the edge of the bath, letting his knees bend so that he could slip his head under all the way to the tips of his horns. It was quiet, below the surface. 

Far too quiet for his taste, he decided as he sat back up, splashing a bit of water out. He glanced over at the mirror across from him, straightening his posture to catch a glimpse of himself flashing a grin, before taking the soap on a dish just next to the bath and getting down to the actual _bathing_ part of taking a bath.

It was done quickly enough, and Grimm was soon out of the bath, shell dripping with water as he looked for a towel. Sure, he could just boil the water away, but towels were nice and fluffy—especially so in the palace. His attention finally turned to the cabinet, where he found multiple shelves stacked with white towels. On one of the upper shelves, though, a small glint of metal caught his eye, and Grimm plucked it from the top shelf, the glow of his eyes flaring as he looked at it.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

* * *

With two glasses of water in hand, the Pale King silently marched his way back to the bedroom, freshly bathed and wearing a new robe. As he neared the door, he found himself wondering whether or not Grimm had stripped the sheets. It was honestly a fifty-fifty guess as to whether he had or hadn’t, unpredictable man that he was. That unpredictability _did_ make him rather fun to have in court on the slow days, though. And tomorrow was set to be a slower day; perhaps he’d offer a special invite.

The wyrm snickered as he recalled the exact title he’d given Grimm, much to the amusement of his wife. “Royal Bedfellow,” he’d proclaimed, struggling to keep a straight face as both Grimm and his root went absolutely mad with laughter. Perhaps he’d refer to the Troupe Master by his proper title in court—no, that would prove too expository of himself, too. Oh well. He’d just have to find another way to get back at him.

The Pale King sighed as he reached the door, twisting the knob open with one of his lower hands to find Grimm leaned up against a wall, one hand behind his back. The sheets had, evidently, been stripped from the bed.

“Hello,” the king said. “Would you like your water?”

“Yeah, could you just set it on the nightstand real quick? I have a question.” Grimm was smirking.

Nonetheless, the wyrm obeyed, setting one of the glasses down on a nightstand next to the bed. “What is this question?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you happened to know what this was,” he replied, pulling his hand out from behind his back. Hanging from a single finger was a collar made of black leather with a small tag on the front, engraved with three words: “The Pampered King.”

The wyrm’s face went red before the next second could pass, his wings beating behind him as he rushed up. Grimm simply lifted his arm in response, holding the collar far above the tips of the Pale King’s crown.

“Grimm, give that back! It is for us and our lady alone!”

Grimm’s laughter could be heard through the entire palace.

**Author's Note:**

> i actually made references to other smut fics & some nsfw hk art so see if you can find them all (some are pretty subtle and others are Not)


End file.
